


won't lose you (can't lose you)

by komhmagnus



Category: Shadowhunters (TV), The Shadowhunter Chronicles - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Heavy Angst, Hurt Magnus Bane, Hurt No Comfort, I don't usually write angst but I couldn't get this out of my head, I'm Sorry, M/M, Magnus Bane-centric, Pain, Protective Alec Lightwood, Worried Alec Lightwood, based on the 3b trailer
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-01
Updated: 2019-02-01
Packaged: 2019-10-20 16:14:34
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,328
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17625596
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/komhmagnus/pseuds/komhmagnus
Summary: One minute, all he knows is Alec's smile.The next, all he knows is the pain.





	won't lose you (can't lose you)

**Author's Note:**

> I've officially joined the angst squad apparently, sorry not sorry (but yeah, kind of sorry).  
> Thank you to Amanda for title ideas!! (and also everyone else who offered suggestions on Twitter!)

It comes back gradually. His magic. 

Magnus doesn’t know if he should trust the sensation when he first feels that familiar buzz beneath his skin, but it’s there. He knows it is. He knows Alec feels it, too. Knows Alec and his magic had grown accustomed to each other. Bonded, even, in some ways.

He doesn’t use it at first, terrified he’ll snap his fingers and see nothing where blue sparks should be. Alec is patient with him, never pushing him to try, never questioning when he still did something the mundane way even though he had a choice now.

Slowly, his confidence grows, though. He starts small, of course, only testing it on relatively simple things like styling his hair or conjuring an ingredient for a potion. Magnus doesn’t want to push his limits, doesn’t want to push his father’s apparent generosity.

His body isn’t used to it, at first, he notices. Like it had grown accustomed to being mundane in that short period. He kept finding himself with mild discomfort whenever he used it, like a stomachache, almost.

He can’t stop smiling when he finally builds the courage to open a portal. He’d been at the Institute with Alec, both ready to go home when he’d opened it. Straight into the living room of their loft.

“It feels good to be back,” Magnus grins, filled with more pride than he’d felt when he and Henry Branwell had invented the first portal. Alec rolls his eyes at Magnus’s theatrics, but Magnus can see the fond joy in his eyes. It’s good and easy and warm and Magnus hasn’t been this happy in a long time. Hasn’t felt this safe in a long time.

One minute, all he knows is Alec’s smile.

The next, all he knows is the pain.

The sudden, brutal,  _ searing _ ache spreading through his body.

It rips through him so suddenly, like a tear in the very fabric of his being. He gasps, the intake of breath sharp and jagged, because it’s all he can do. 

It starts in his core, he feels it spreading, feels himself falling to his knees, distantly feels Alec’s arms ghosting over his shoulders. He thinks he hears Alec calling his name but he can’t be sure. All Magnus is sure of is the pain.

His vision darkens and he’s consumed by it. Everything is dark, he’s surrounded by it, by the pain. It feels like every inch of himself is tearing itself apart, every ounce of who he is ripping itself away from his body.

He sees Ragnor. Out of the inky shadows, he’s right there. He looks sad, like he can see the pain Magnus is in, like he wishes he could help. Magnus wants to reach out to him, but he disappears.

He’s replaced by Cat and Madzie. They’re looking at each other, smiles on their faces. Magnus tries to speak, but they don’t seem to hear him. Underneath all the pain, he knows this isn’t real, knows it’s just his mind playing tricks on him--or worse, his father. He wonders if this is it. If he’s dying. He almost wishes for it, the pain gnawing at him like the eagle at Prometheus’s liver.

Like Ragnor, Cat and Madzie disappear into the dark recesses surrounding him.

The next face sucks the rest of whatever air he’d had left out of his lungs.

_ Alexander _ .

His love’s face is gaunt, staring directly at Magnus with a look of anguish. His mouth is moving, but Magnus can’t hear what he’s saying. He watches Alec’s lips shape his name and he wishes he could answer, wishes he was capable of something other than writhing in agony.

And then all at once, just as it started, everything stops.

The pain and Alexander’s face both fade away until he’s left floating in the darkness. He should feel peace, he thinks. Relief.

All he feels is dread.

He knows who’s face he’ll see next before he appears.

“Hello, son,” he hears echoing in the darkness. His father steps out of the shadows, his face passive. “Did you like the gift?”

Magnus’s fists clench at his sides. “I think you and I have different understandings of what a  _ gift _ is.”

“Perhaps,” Asmodeus drawls. “But I didn’t say it was a gift for  _ you _ .”

Magnus wants to scream, wants to tear at his father’s face until there’s nothing left. But he knows he can’t, knows that though they’re both in this plane consciously, physically he can do nothing against his father. Especially not now. The pain left him, but it took all his strength with him. He wants to sink down into the shadows, but he won’t give his father that satisfaction.

“Is that what all this is, then?” Magnus asks, voice more solid than he himself feels. “Have you come to collect me?”

“Not yet.” His father laughs, the sound echoing around him and sending a chill down his spine. “I’ve come to offer you a warning.”

“And what would that be?”

“You’re dying, son.” The words are blunt and cruel from Asmodeus’s lips, and Magnus almost feels relief.

_ Almost _ . His mind flashes back to the apparition of Alec before him, to the ghostlike feeling of Alec’s hands on his arms as he’d fallen into the blackness and the pain.  _ I don’t think I can live without you _ .

“What did you do to me?” Magnus asks through gritted teeth.

“Your magic longed for you, so I sent it back. But make no mistake, son, it still belongs to me,” Asmodeus says, walking circles around him. “Every time you use it, your soul is drawn back to Edom. Where you belong. Your home.”

Magnus shakes his head. “Edom is not my home.”

His father hums in disapproval. “Perhaps not now, but soon it will be, my boy.”

“Why are you telling me this?”

“Because I’m offering you a choice,” Asmodeus says, like he’s being  _ generous _ in all of this. “You can stay with that  _ Shadowhunter _ of yours,” he spits the word like it’s some vile thing, “and suffer the agony of that essential part of you being right at your fingertips but yet so far away, knowing that inevitably the pain will be for nothing. Or, you can join me now, and free yourself from the suffering, from the pain. Join me, and your magic will be yours again. Rule with me, son.” 

“You know I’ve never wanted that,” Magnus says. “I’d rather live a thousand lifetimes in agony than rule in hell with you.” His words are more confident, more jagged than he feels. He barely even knows if they’re true, but he does know one thing:  if he chooses the pain, at least he’ll be able to say goodbye to Alec. He’ll be able to see him smile, even one last time. He’ll be able to tell him he loves him, one last time, and to hear it in return. Alexander was worth more than a million lifetimes of agony, of that he was sure.

Asmodeus frowns. “I’m sorry to hear that, son. I had hoped to make this painless, but you’re just as stubborn as your mother.” The words cut like a knife. “I’ll see you soon, Magnus.” His father vanishes in a puff of smoke, and the darkness with him.

The first thing he’s aware of is the bed beneath him. He doesn’t know how he’s gotten there, how long he’s been trapped in that dark pain.

There’s a hand clasped around his own so tightly it almost hurts. This pain is a good pain, he decides. Better than the hellfire that had consumed him. He squeezes the hand back.

“Magnus?” he hears instantly, and the voice is like a balm. He’s safe, he’s home. He’s not okay, not by any means, not if what his father said was true, but Alec is here.

His eyelids feel incredibly heavy as he forces them open to meet Alec’s worried gaze. “Alexander.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Comments and kudos are appreciated 💖  
> Feel free to yell at me on Tumblr or Twitter @banesapothecary


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